Summer's Lease

Chapter 1-2

“Just one word,” Mitch Benjamin said the next morning, bending his six-foot eight-inch frame to get under the lintel of Morwenna’s kitchen door.

Boris, Morwenna’s black tom cat, hissed from beside his feeding bowl.

“And you can shut up, you demon-possessed spawn of Satan.”

“If that was your one word,” Morwenna said, coming into the flagstoned kitchen and making for the stove, “you can’t count.”

“Why?” Mitch put his hands on his hips and surveyed his old friend, who was pointedly ignoring him as she lifted the lid of a saucepan.

From the foul odour that billowed out, Mitch guessed she was boiling seaweed again. His revulsion at the smell was superseded only by the remembered taste of the stuff.

“Why, what?” She stirred the green slop before tasting it.

Mitch had to look away.

“Bit more flavouring, I think.” She smacked her lips.

Mitch tried to keep a hold on his temper, betting his friend was deliberately baiting him. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d rented out number six?”

“Didn’t think it was important.”

“Not important?” Mitch said loudly, glaring at her. From behind him, Boris gave a warning hiss. Whirling on the feline, Mitch shot it a “don’t mess with me” look, which had absolutely no effect on the cat, whose back remained arched, tail fluffed out, and hair on end. “You don’t scare me. Go do something useful like catch a mouse or something.”

Mitch turned his back on the cat, knowing that although they couldn’t stand each other, Boris wouldn’t attack him. He hoped.

“How long is he staying?” Mitch asked once he’d calmed himself.

“Who, Boris? I imagine he’ll stay until he wants to leave. You know cats.” She replaced the lid on the saucepan and adjusted the flame under it.

Mitch ground his teeth, his temper rising again. “The guy in six.”

“Oh, him.” She lifted her trusty mortar and pestle off the shelf and then began to pick off various leaves from the herbs she kept in earthenware pots on the window ledge, all the while deliberately not meeting Mitch’s gaze.

“Morwenna!” Mitch barked. Sometimes his friend could be so exasperating. “This is important.”

She finally turned to face him, a sprig of rosemary between her fingers. “Love, the universe has brought him here for a reason, and I believe it will take the summer for that to manifest itself.”

Mitch rolled his eyes. His friend had some pretty off-the-wall flights of fancy, though he knew better than to disparage them. She’d been proved right too many times in the past.

“Just so long as he stays out of my way.”

Morwenna came toward him and laid a hand on his cheek. “Be nice to him. He’s a paying guest, and we need the money.”

Mitch looked down at her. “I can pay more. You haven’t increased my rent for years.” He made small wooden pieces, such as stools and baby chairs, that Morwenna sold for him in the local towns.

“It isn’t just the money. Why leave the cottages empty when so many people need them? Like this new guest. I can sense that he’s had a…difficult time of things and being here may be the medicine he needs right now. Just as it was for you.”

Morwenna had a generosity of spirit that had instantly drawn Mitch to her. Her grandmother had been exactly the same way. It had somehow skipped a generation with Morwenna’s mother, who had run off to the bright lights at the first possible opportunity.

Mitch swallowed. “It’s just…I have to be careful.”

She stroked his cheek. “John, the guy renting six, is no threat. Boris likes him.”

Mitch’s eyes swivelled to the cat, who was still standing on guard, watching his every move. “Why doesn’t that fill me with reassurance?”

“It’ll all be fine. Trust me?”

Trust was something Mitch found hard to give, but Morwenna had never let him down. It was still odd that she hadn’t mentioned this John guy earlier, but he guessed she had her reasons.

“Okay.” He found a smile from somewhere.

Morwenna withdrew her hand, stood on tip toe, kissed his cheek, and then went back to her herbs. Over her shoulder she said, “Oh, and John said the cold-water bath tap was leaking. Would you be a sweetie and take a look?”

He shook his head, muttering, “Okay.”

As Morwenna had constantly refused to accept more rent, they’d come to an agreement whereby he’d perform any minor repairs to the cottages. On his way over to Morwenna’s cottage, Mitch had seen the new guy turn onto the cliff path, so he figured if he went over to number six now he could get the job done before the guy came back.

“Thanks,” Morwenna said, beginning to grind the herbs. “I suppose you won’t be staying for lunch?”

He snorted and left without another word, saving one more threatening glare for the cat, whose unblinking green gaze followed him out.